Flaming Hot Cheetos

The red is the love of the poor, And the hatred of the rich. The crunches are the voices of the uneducated and the unashamed. The smacking of lips is the joy of being selfish enough to love oneself. The severe smell cuts through The false odors awakening the senses. The powder slowly forges a…

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Perfect Union

by Alina Yaman I feel heavy these days. I feel paralyzed. Half a centimeter beneath the surface – that’s where I lie. The me of feeling, the me of soul, the me of action – I sit, half a centimeter beneath the surface. I swell with heavy and tragic and despair, I swell with love…

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